


Oathbreakers

by Dark_Puck



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, But the relationship is not the focus, Contains pre-established Tredd/Axis/Sonitus, Gen, Kingsglaive: Final Fantasy XV (2016), Lonely Luche, Luche Lazarus does not deserve his fate, Sass Squad, Traitor Trio, Tredd Furia absolutely deserves his, ah i see, ah yes please i'd like the canon divergence with a side of everyone lives, and for dessert we have shenanigans with small children, can i offer you a side of angst instead?, does that still count as gen?, hello welcome to fanfic can i take your order?, i'll take some of that as well thanks, so sorry we're fresh out of everyone lives, very good, yeah sure the angst sounds fine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-08
Updated: 2018-02-08
Packaged: 2019-03-04 02:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,113
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13354965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dark_Puck/pseuds/Dark_Puck
Summary: The Kingsglaive have been betrayed at every turn. First, by the city that took them in and immediately spurned them. Second, by a king who broke faith with them. Third, by the Empire they allied with in desperation. Fourth, by their own captain. Now Luche Lazarus is on a mission to deliver the Ring of the Lucii to Noctis, but there's one small problem: he no longer has it. His search takes him all over Lucis, in the wake of Nyx Ulric, Libertus Ostium, and the Oracle herself, and nets him the curious sympathy of the Imperial Chancellor....





	Oathbreakers

###  _something bad happens_ _  
_ _(and a lot of people go bad themselves)_  
  


####    
  
.i luche lazarus

"So many dead over so simple a thing," Luche says, looking at the small, almost insignificant talisman in his palm. "But why? For what?" He's taunting her, like he did Ulric, making them hate him.

"Power," the Oracle says, meeting his gaze without fear. "Untold power beyond the control of someone like you."

Her words are a taunt in return, and a challenge — _prove yourself worthy. Put it on and demand recompense from the Kings of Old._

"Power…" he says, looking down at the ring again. He could do it. He could put it on, demand that power, destroy Insomnia and the Empire alike. He _could do it_ —

But it isn't just Ulric down there now, it's Captain Drautos. His orders had been clear: get the ring. His captain _trusts_ him.

He raises his gun again, holding the Oracle in his sights. He won't kill her, but he's certain she doesn't know that. "I don't think so, princess," he says, and smiles. He backs away, keeping the gun trained on her, and looks down as an SUV screeches to a halt, aimed at Ulric and Captain Drautos.

For a moment, the world holds still, as if the Astrals themselves are holding their collective breath—

And then the SUV guns forward, running the captain down.

Luche runs, the Ring in his pocket, a temptation all on its own. But he has his orders, and the knowledge that the Oracle _did_ try to tempt him with it, and a faint, wild hope that somehow the captain survived. He doesn't hear screeching metal behind him, doesn't hear the battle as he flees, doesn't hear anything until the daemons are airdropped in.

Their only purpose is destruction, he fathoms quickly, spitefully razing the city that held itself safe behind an impenetrable magical Wall while leaving the rest of the country to hang. But the Imperial daemons target everything and anything, Glaives and Insomnians and Outlanders and Imperials, and Luche is forced to take shelter in the subway.

He's not alone down there, one soul among many, and it's only a matter of time before his uniform gives him away, so he pushes further from the crowds, deep into the subway tunnels themselves, and remains alone in the dark until the shaking and distant panicked noises fade.

He uses a maintenance passage to get out, and sets off through the shattered streets of predawn Insomnia. He tells himself that he doesn't regret his part in the night's work, that the hateful Insomnian citizens had it coming to them— 

But even he can't excuse the tiny, pathetic bodies he comes across, and remembers Arra insisting he be allowed to get his own children out.  Luche's glad he allowed it, now.

Eventually he finds the Imperial checkpoint, but he remains under cover. It isn’t that he doesn’t trust them, but it’s exactly that he doesn’t trust them. They don’t know he has what they want.

The sun rises, and the comm in his ear comes alive.

“Lazarus,” says the Captain, and Luche only barely stops himself from slumping in relief. He doesn't know _how the hell_ Drautos survived being run over, and at the moment he can't bring himself to care. His captain is safe, and doesn't even sound pained. Another mark on Drautos' untouchable reputation.

“Sir,” he reports, keeping the relief buried, along with the exhaustion.

He doesn’t notice how strange Captain Drautos sounds.

“Good,” the Captain says. “Where are you?”

“The North Gate. There’s an Imperial checkpoint there now.”

“Head to the docks,” his Captain orders. “I’ll meet you there.”

The comm clicks offline, leaving only the faint beep that means it’ll need to be charged soon.

Seeing the bodies is somehow worse, in the daylight.

Luche picks his way to the docks with care, and spies Drautos waiting for him. He lets himself smile, almost thinks he means the smile.

“Sir!” He walks quickly to the Captain, trying to banish sleep as he does. “Is it over?”

One large hand curves around the back of Luche’s neck, drawing him to Drautos’ side. “Yes, Luche,” says Drautos, looking down at him.

And then he slides a kukri between Luche’s ribs, holding him close as he gasps and jerks in pain.

“It’s all over,” are the last words Luche hears before darkness closes in, the traitor betrayed.

### 

####    
  
.ii tredd furia

Bullets start flying, and Tredd hurls himself cursing to the deck; a pair of thuds a second later indicate Axis and Sonitus followed suit.

He can hear a voice over a loudspeaker, as well as the report of a machine gun, and risks raising his head to see a Crownsguard vehicle.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Sonitus ask for a retreat. About to refuse— what will a machine gun do against an Imperial gunship? And for fuck's sake, it's the damn _Crownsguard_ , the Marshal's the only one of them even worth a battle — Tredd’s eyes fall on Axis.

His jaw tightens, then he signals the retreat.

It’s not glamorous, not with bullets flying over their heads, but the three of them crawl to the other side of the ship, Tredd tucking Ulric’s kukri into his boot as he goes.

The ship bucks violently as they jump, throwing Tredd off, and he can’t twist his body around and the angle’s all wrong and the pavement’s rising to meet him—

It’s the pain that wakes him, sharp and fierce. He grunts and opens his eyes, and almost wishes he hasn’t when he looks up and spies Ostium. Tredd holds himself still, closing his eyes as he hears the ex-Glaive clump his way through the debris.

It's almost agony, holding himself back when all he wants to do is check on Axis and Sonitus—

Ostium stops next to him, and Tredd stops breathing.

Gravel crunches, and he wonders if he'll have to fight Ostium, but he gives no indication that he's aware that Tredd is awake, alive. Instead he draws Ulric's kukri from Tredd's boot and moves away.

Tredd starts breathing again, shallowly, trying to keep his back from moving as he does.

A walkie-talkie crackles to life, and Tredd listens in disbelief as godsdamned Glauca declares the Ring is on its way to Section D. Last he'd checked, Ostium had _not_ been a part of the day's work. The captain, however, said the damn Imps insisted that each group be ignorant of the other's doings, in case someone broke, so he supposes Ostium could have gotten involved with a rebel cell.

But finally Ostium clumps away, and he hears a car engine start up. Only when he no longer hears it does he push himself upright, debris falling from his coat like rain. Sonitus and Axis lay nearby, Sonitus with his leg… oh no.

He scrambles to them both, leans in close to Sonitus, his cheek practically against the Altissian's mouth, until he feels hot air on his skin.  Again, again.  Sonitus is alive.

He turns to Axis just as the slender man groans and opens his eyes, and slumps in relief. His boys are alive. They're all alive.

Tredd is strong, but it takes him and Axis both to set Sonitus' broken leg, and it tears his heart to shreds when Sonitus screams in agony but no sound escapes him. He knows what that means, they all do, but they can't think about it. Not right now.

Axis cradles Sonitus against his chest as Tredd digs a potion from his bag and puts it in Soni's hands. There won't be any more curatives so they'll have to conserve what they have left, but Sonitus can't do anything on a broken leg. Sonitus drinks, hands shaking, and green light shimmers around his leg, then vanishes.

They help him to his feet, and Tredd smiles slightly. "We should head over to Section D. They might need backup."

Neither Axis nor Sonitus looks certain about his decision, but neither contests it, either. They walk until Sonitus stops short, looking around, brows furrowed. "What is it?" Tredd asks him.

Sonitus signals _Airships_ , and a few heartbeats later Tredd hears it too. He whips around, and his eyes widen when he sees what they have suspended below. "Run," he whispers. " **Run!** "

Axis is the one who spies the fallout shelter entrance, one that must predate the Wall, and they waste no time climbing inside, slamming it closed against the daemons' barrage.

There in the dark, Tredd takes them both into his arms, hearing Axis' sharp, panicked breathing, hearing nothing from Sonitus at all. Even that isn't enough to distract him from the knowledge that the Empire never intended them to survive this night.

### 

####    
  
.iii nyx ulric

Nyx is going to vomit.

Injured, helpless, his hero dead, most of his comrades traitors, collaborators with _Niflheim_ —

And his own captain, Titus Drautos, a man he loves and respects, is General _fucking_ Glauca.

The princess is at his side now, supporting him as he struggles to rise, to face that double-crossing _murderer_ , but the bullets inside him, the injury to his knee, are keeping him down.

Several feet away, Libertus struggles from the flipped vehicle, shouting his name as Drautos— no, _Glauca_ — approaches, sword raised. Nyx can feel the princess’ hand on his injured leg, feel the trembling in her slender frame. Her hand moves from his leg, slips into his, and he looks back at her, surprised.

He squeezes her hand as gently as he can, to reassure her, then turns to face the oncoming enemy, a snarl on his face and his arm now protectively before her. Nyx doesn't know _how_ he'll keep her safe, not with him and Lib down and injured, but as the sword swings down for them both he knows he has to do _something_.

But it's the princess who acts, raising her hand, a trident appearing in her hands in much the same way Nyx has seen the King summon his sword. Words spill from her mouth in a tumble in the instant before she catches the sword on the trident’s staff:

_“Sacred song of light and life,_ _  
_ _deliver us from darkness’ blight!”_

She falters when sword strikes trident, and Nyx grabs the trident, adding his strength to hers—

And power _roars_ through him.

It’s nothing like the King’s magic, like Caelum magic; it’s warm and soft and no less deadly for it. Nyx reaches for it, instinctively, and a barrier tessellates between them and their assailant.

The princess gasps, then cries out: “Gentiana, I beg your favour!”

The temperature around them lowers, like they've suddenly been shoved in a freezer; Nyx can see his breath in the air like smoke. He feels an icy kiss against his cheek like snow, hears a laugh like sleigh bells, and wonders madly if midwinter has come early.

_"You have until dawn."_

The pain leaves him, flesh and bone mending in its wake, and he rolls away from the princess, kukri in hand.

He knows to the depths of his soul that he won’t be able to warp, but his blade glows with a soft golden light, as though from a miniature sun.

“Nyx!”

Unhindered by the heavy armour, Glauca swings; only Lib's cry gives Nyx the chance to duck. The reverse strike nearly takes Nyx's head regardless; as it is, the close shave leaves several strands of his hair much shorter.

Libertus shouts again, even closer, then lunges at the daemonic Glauca from thin air, his glowing kukri leaving a trail behind it. He slashes upward, and the knife slices through the plates like they were softened butter. The general shouts in pain, and Lib's eyes widen in shock. By the time Glauca turns to swing again, he's gone; invisible once more.

Nyx bares his teeth as the blade strikes empty pavement, blood seeping from the new gap in the plates. Then he hurls himself onto Glauca’s back, slicing at the armour like a raging coeurl. Glauca roars, more fury than pain, and a strong hand grabs Nyx by the back of the neck. The world spins and Nyx slams back-first into the pavement. Instinctively he rolls sideways, narrowly avoiding his enemy's sword.

The Oracle's shout cuts through the din.

The trident hurled at Glauca's face is a surprise to everyone, possibly even to Lunafreya, and though he bats it aside as almost an afterthought, they can see burned flesh where the holy weapon has eaten through daemonic metal. A burst of crystalline magic, and the trident appears once more in the Oracle's hands as if called there.

A pained _howl_ from Glauca signals another attack from Libertus, a spray of blood marking the kukri's path up his spine. The general _twists_ and catches Lib in the temple, sending him sprawling on the pavement, dazed. Glauca raises his sword to strike Lib down, and Nyx leaps, his kukri dazzling his eyes even as he catches the general's blade against it, forces back with all his strength, buying time for Libertus to _get up_ —

It isn't enough.

Slowly Nyx is forced down to his knees, no match for Glauca's strength. So he laughs, because he's Nyx, and that may be Glauca but it's also Titus Drautos and if Nyx doesn't laugh he'll scream. "Was it worth it, Titus?" he demands, even as his knees buckle. 

There’s something there, a brief movement.

A flinch.

Libertus’ entire bulk slams into Glauca like a charging kujata, making him stagger. “For hearth and home, right, _sir?”_ he spits, nearly incandescent with rage. "How long have you been working with them?"

Glauca hurls Libertus off him and kicks Nyx in the chest, throwing him onto his back. A massive, booted foot lands square on Nyx's sternum, holding him down. "Since the beginning," he says, so matter-of-fact it makes Nyx sick.

"Longer than that," Lunafreya says in a voice like ice. "You murdered my mother twelve years ago and you were a general of Niflheim then."

"The Oracle's death was her own doing," Glauca answers.

"She was protecting my brother!"

"Then she was a fool to spend her life for his. He had no place in what is to come."

" _He was her_ ** _son_** _!_ " the princess screams; it's the first time Nyx has seen her lose her cool. And she's angry and mourning all at once—

He can sense her emotions, he realises, emotions she's suppressed and buried rather than allowed herself to experience. She doesn't know how to think through them. And he's sure Glauca is counting on it.

The trident lies in his hand, heavy and holy.

With his other hand he drives his kukri into Glauca's armoured thigh and drags it down. Glauca yells and jerks away; Nyx rolls to his feet and grasps the trident in both hands. "Galahd and the Oracle!" he shouts, and surges after the enemy general.

Glauca only barely dodges, and the trident shatters in Nyx's hands— 

Libertus grins, bloody and feral, and hurls the trident like a javelin.

It takes Glauca in the shoulder, knocking him off-balance before it shatters into crystalline light again, reappearing in Nyx's hands. The enemy snarls at them, more daemon than human, and then leaps high into the air and out of sight.

The sudden silence is broken by Lunafreya collapsing with a sigh.

"Shit!" Libertus is closer; by the time Nyx gets there the Oracle is cradled against his chest, a ghost in white. "She's low on magic," he reports to Nyx, gently brushing a strand of hair off her cheek with dirty fingers.  Then he looks chagrined, and tries to shove her into Nyx's arms. "Nyx, I—"

An apology is coming, and Nyx isn't interested. "Forget it," he says. "You saved my life— both our lives. I owe you one."

"I'd say we both owe the princess," Libertus finally says, and Nyx nods agreement.

Both of them suddenly become aware of the sounds of engines — Imperial airships — and daemonic screams. Libertus goes as white as Lunafreya, and Nyx feels adrenaline surge through him.

As one, they look up.

Nyx regrets it immediately; nearly every airship has a massive daemon dangling below. A _familiar_ daemon.

"Run?"

" _Run_."

Both men bolt for Glauca's car, the Prince's car, Nyx realises somewhere in the back of his mind. Libertus doesn't bother trying to get the Oracle in the backseat; he straps them both into the passenger seat while Nyx climbs in on the driver's side.

"Hang on!" he yells, and peels out of the square.

The drive to the city's edges is terrifying. Nyx is relieved that the daemons don't seem to see the slick little car as a threat or a target, or even at all. That makes dodging missiles and debris easier, especially with Libertus as second lookout.

The Imperials are setting up a checkpoint on the other side of the bridge out of Insomnia. Nyx guns the engine, ploughing through at 330kph, faster than even the MTs setting it up can react. One hapless MT, too slow to get out of the way, is mowed down completely. Beside him, Libertus howls in delight, riding a wave of adrenaline. 

"Yeah! Try and catch us _now_ , you sonsabitches!"

"That is my _ear_ ," mutters a dazed, petulant Lunafreya.

Nyx is hurtling down the road too fast to even risk a glance, but Libertus swears, then apologises for swearing. The Oracle just grumbles and shifts. "Where are we?" she asks.

"Leide," Nyx and Libertus say at the same time. "We just crossed Ostium Gorge," Nyx adds, "and we're well on the way to Hammerhead."

"Stop there," she commands, then adds, "Please."

Nyx shrugs. "We'll need gas anyway," he says, eyeing the fuel gauge, which has just dropped past a quarter of a tank. "We can figure out where to go from there."

The rest of the trip passes in silence.

### 

####    
  
.iv tredd furia

"Furia! Report!"

Tredd jerks awake, wide-eyed and gasping. He's surrounded by darkness, but his arms are around his boys, so he doesn't panic.  He can't hear the sounds of the daemons anymore, no screeching, no destruction, and he wonders if it's dawn.

"Furia!"

Axis makes a muzzy sound of protest as Tredd lifts his arm to touch his still-working earpiece. "Sir…?"

There's something odd about the captain's voice, but for the life of him Tredd can't put his finger on what it is. "You made it. Good."

Sonitus stirs under his other arm, and Tredd absently rubs the shorter man's back. "We took cover in a fallout shelter. The daemons—"

"I know. How many are with you?"

"Just Arra and Bellum."

Tredd's about to add that Soni's voice isn't back, but Axis cuts in unexpectedly. "It'll take us time to rendezvous, sir; Soni's hurt."

Tredd shoots him a confused look that Axis can't see in the darkness.

"How bad is it?"

"Broken leg, sir."

There's a moment of silence, and then Drautos speaks again. "All right. Fine. Rendezvous at the docks. Maintain comm silence until you get there.”

Sonitus taps at Tredd’s elbow insistently, and Tredd nods. “Yeah. He _does_ sound off.”

“Annoyed,” Axis offers.

More tapping from Soni; both men wait until he’s spelled out his message: _He didn’t ask if you two were hurt._

"Something here's not right." Tredd scowled, and considered. "Let's head for the docks. We can at least see if it's…"

Neither Axis nor Sonitus respond, and Tredd wonders if it might be for the same reason he doesn't finish the sentence. "Duck," he says, and when he feels Axis and Sonitus pull away, he feels around until he finds the ladder. He climbs with care and _still_ bangs his head on the cover.

He swears creatively at it, venting the night's terror as he pushes it open. The morning light filters down, blinding him momentarily, and he swears at that, too.

His voice is the only sound; not even birds are singing.

Tredd's mouth snaps shut, and he looks around grimly. This part of the city was apparently spared the worst of the destruction, but there's not a soul in sight. The silence, the stillness, put Tredd on edge, and without a word he signals _all-clear_ and climbs the rest of the way out.

There's not even _MTs_ around.

He helps first Sonitus, then Axis to the surface streets, and finally realises how antsy Axis is.

He steps closer to the farmer, cupping the back of Axis' head with one hand and drawing him close until their foreheads are touching. "I won't act rashly," he promises the older man. "As soon as we find out what the hell's going on, we'll go get your kids."

Axis breathes in, breathes out, and nods. "Okay. Okay."

He strokes Axis' cheek, a further promise to maintain his cool, and then pulls away. "Keep to cover," he orders, "and let's go."

The walk is uneventful, even when they start finding bodies. Tredd tells himself that he doesn't care, that the damn Insomnians deserved it and more—

But Axis stops every time they find a child, and bows his head, and Tredd and Sonitus wait for him.

He _doesn't_ feel guilty, Tredd tells himself. He _doesn't_.

He still can't look at either of his boys as they continue on, accompanied by their own footsteps on rubble, and the faint beep of their dying comms.

When at last they reach the docks, Sonitus takes point, peering around a corner. His hand rises, signalling a halt, then signs _Company_ twice.  The captain _and_ Lazarus?

Tredd and Axis exchange looks — Tredd tries not to notice that Axis is more haunted than usual — and then peer around the corner as well. Lazarus and Drautos are together, speaking quietly. Tredd relaxes minutely as Drautos pulls the smaller man close to him, and starts to come out of hiding.

Sonitus yanks him back just as the captain draws a kukri and stabs Luche in the side. The three of them watch in horror as Lazarus gasps and jerks in Drautos' hold, and finally stills. The captain sets Lazarus' body down almost _tenderly_ , and arranges his limbs until the body is lying in state.

Then he touches his ear, and Tredd's comm crackles to life. "Furia, Arra, report."

Sonitus' hand covers Tredd's mouth; it's Axis who answers. "Having some problems, Captain," he lies, managing to sound pained and out of breath. "Looks like someone told the MTs to start targeting Glaives; we can't move on until they're gone."

"Furia?"

"Comm's dead, sir, and mine won't last much longer."

The annoyed motion Drautos makes, not a hundred yards from them, contrasts with his voice. "Give me your position. I'll come to you."

"Near the underground entrance ten miles north of the East Gate," Axis says.

"Sit tight; I won't be long."

The captain turns to look at Lazarus one last time, then turns on his heel and heads for one of the boats.

None of them is fool enough to think he's headed for the position Axis gave.

As soon as he's out of sight, Tredd shakes off the other two and runs for Lazarus.  Maybe, just maybe, the other man is still alive—

There's no rise and fall to the other Glaive's chest. His eyes are closed, some part of Tredd distantly notes. Drautos closed his eyes. But the worst part of it all is the faint, shocked expression on Lazarus' face. A betrayal he never saw coming, that _they_ never saw coming. Their own captain used them and their rage, played them for fools—

There's something in Luche's breast pocket, Tredd realises.

Vaguely aware of Sonitus and Axis arguing behind him — or at least he assumes they're arguing, he can see both their hands flying but can't spare the attention to see what they're saying — he eases his hand into the pocket and takes out a ring.

The king's ring.

The Ring of the Lucii.

Tredd starts to laugh; it's laugh or scream, really. "So many dead over _this_ fucking thing, and now _I've_ got it?"

He adjusts his boot, straightens, then turns to the harbour and _throws_ , and in the distance, something splashes.

Both Sonitus and Axis are watching him with worried expressions. Tredd just shrugs and jumps onto the nearest boat, fishing around until he finds a blanket. He lays it over Lazarus' body, inhales, exhales.

In his ear, his comm beeps one last time, then finally dies.

"Let's get the hell out of this city before the Empire comes back to make sure we're dead," he says.

Axis and Sonitus nod, and the three of them turn their backs on the docks and leave.

### 

####    
  
.v luche lazarus

**_OATHBREAKER_ **

Luche wakes, gasping.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks here go to Ferret and Corgi for acting as beta-readers and helping me flesh out several bare-bones scenes. I love you guys~
> 
> And thanks also to everyone I randomly hurled bits of this chapter at, both with and without context.


End file.
